


What Arthur Doesn't Know

by IsobelSionisFalcone



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Adultery, F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 16:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11924571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsobelSionisFalcone/pseuds/IsobelSionisFalcone
Summary: Danse has been admiring Elder Maxson's wife for months, but knows she's off-limits. What happens when she makes a move on him?Structure:Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3 - short epilogue. Optional read.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was torn between loving and hating Arthur after Blind Betrayal and this popped into my head. Hope you enjoy!

The Paladin swallowed as he entered the Elder’s office. The tension in the air was so thick, he could’ve cut it with a knife. Maxson sat at his desk reading documents recovered from a recent sweep, bearded chin resting in his right hand, muscles taut and jaw clenched. Danse had no doubt that his discomfort was, yet again, due to a disagreement with the figure silhouetted against the large window behind him.

Her full hips and rounded breasts defined her outline under the dimmed lights, half of her face in shadow as she gazed at the sea. The almost empty glass in her dainty hand glinted as she twirled it between her fingers, as did the wedding band. Her smooth, pale skin provided a sharp contrast to the black robe that encased lean muscles. As befitting such a confident and elegant woman, the robe would have been a little like a dress, except the sides split from her waist down, revealing toned legs and long black heeled boots. It was then that Danse had to remind himself to stop staring at the legs of his commanding officer’s wife.

“Paladin,” Maxson greeted him with a gesture towards the chair opposite his own. He was a little hurt that Iris hadn’t even turned her head in his general direction. “The reports our scribes found are somewhat concerning,” the Elder continued as Danse took his seat. “I’m sending you out tomorrow with a squadron to secure the area.”

“Of course, sir,” he replied.

“We don’t know what’s down there, but my wife assures me we can rule out Supermutants and gunners – Iris?”

At last, she turned, hips swaying as she moved to place her glass on the desk. “The site isn’t big enough for a Supermutant hive and there’d be nothing of interest for the gunners, or any other mercenaries for that matter,” she said. “I’ve a trusted contact who tells me radiation isn’t a problem, either. Or at least, no more of a problem than it is anywhere else in the Commonwealth.”

Danse nodded, words like ‘fraternisation’ and ‘against Brotherhood conduct’ swirling around in his head. He wondered why, when they had spoken so many times before, that his most primal instincts would kick in now. It wasn’t as if he had only just begun to find her attractive; he’d always admired her beauty, but his line of work was his one true love and besides, Elder Maxson had been keen to take a wife to please his superiors. Any conversations between herself and the Paladin had remained strictly professional, for the sake of his career - and his friendship with Arthur. Perhaps spending so long trying to deny his feelings had only made them stronger...

"I don't doubt that you'll be successful," Maxson said. "Although I must advise caution. I don't have as much intelligence as I'd like to give you."

Danse caught the frown on Iris' brow as she leaned against the arm of her husband's chair. Whilst she was clearly annoyed by his distrust of her sources, she kept quiet, pursing her lips and keeping a little distance between them (be it only an inch or so).

"I won't let you down, sir," Danse assured him. "We'll secure any technology that might be an asset to the Brotherhood."

"I have the utmost confidence in you and your team," the Elder responded. Before Dance turned to leave, the pair saluted each other and he was sure that Iris' lips curled ever so slightly to smile at him. 

 

Overall, Paladin Danse was pleased with the outcome of the mission. He returned to the Prydwen a little after two in the morning, having found useful ammunition caches and technical documents, but most importantly, his entire squadron came back alive. He couldn't have asked for better results.

Besides the fact that a rather nasty gash on his shoulder needed stitches. He would have done it himself, but the awkward positioning of it meant he wouldn't be able to reach. Unfortunately, he doubted there'd be anyone in the medical bay to help him at this hour, but he pressed on regardless. Hopefully, he'd run into someone with the adequate medical training. Otherwise, he'd have to bite the bullet, so as to speak, and seek treatment during the day.

Rounding the corner only a few metres from the bay, he stopped short when he nearly collided with a tall and feminine black-clad body.

"My apologies, ma'am," he said, captivated by Iris' eyes that matched her name. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Of course not," she smiled softly, making his heart swell. "I hear you all made it back safely."

"We did. I'm incredibly pleased - and proud of my team."

"That's what I like about you, Danse," she told him warmly. "Your so... Selfless and... Caring..." she stopped short when she noticed the bloodied shoulder of his flight suit. "Oh! Here I am keeping you talking and your injured!"

"I'm fine. It's just a cut," he replied, his face heating up under her concerned gaze.

"At least let me take a look at it," Iris begged with the most pleading expression he'd ever seen. He was ashamed to admit it made his cock twitch. "I'd be more than happy to stitch it up for you."

"I really don't want to trouble you, ma'am..." he muttered, his eyes anywhere but on her.

"It'll be no trouble at all," she insisted. "Actually, I'd feel much better knowing you've had it treated. Come on, I've got the proper training, I promise."

She didn't give him time to object, leading him the short distance to the bay. Danse sat on the examination table, trying to keep his attention on his boots. His pulse raced and his muscles were tight with nerves. Was this how Maxson always felt with her? Had the Paladin mistaken sheer, love-struck anxiousness for post-argument tension? Then again, he didn't think the Elder was the type to sit fawning over a woman, no matter how beautiful and maternal she was.

He watched the way her hips moved as she washed her hands, placing her wedding ring on the sink sideboard. He berated himself for staring, knowing Iris was well and truly off-limits. He couldn't do that to Arthur. He couldn't ruin the years of toil and strife that it took to get him this far...

"Danse?"

His head snapped up as she called his name.

"Your flight suit?"

He blinked, thoroughly distracted by the way the light caught her lipstick. As she began to chuckle and the pain in his shoulder became more apparent, he suddenly realised what she wanted.

"Oh! Y-yes, of course," he mumbled, cheeks now flaming with embarrassment.

Iris gave an understanding giggle (how she made it sound understanding, he'd never know) as he began to stiffly peel the tight suit away from his clammy skin. The gorgeous, but perhaps naive young woman mistook this reluctance to strip in front of the person he was currently fantasising about to be an effect of the wound. With tender hands and a motherly "here, let me", she pulled the constricting garment down to reveal the spattering of blood around the incision.

"I glad I caught you," Iris said. "You wouldn't... You wouldn't have just left it, would you?" she asked as she went to fetch the alcohol wipes.

"I would have had to if nobody was here," he replied simply. "It probably looks worse than it is, ma'am."

"Danse, how many times have I told you to call me Iris?" she scolded gently, tearing open the packet of wipes. "You do worry me... It might have got infected. I'm rarely in bed at this time. Promise you'll come and find me if you have a problem like this again, won't you?"

Danse wondered why she wouldn't be sleeping with her husband, their bodies entwined in a loving embrace. It made him question whether she loved Maxson.

"I... I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience..." he said, gritting his teeth as she dabbed away the excess blood and cleaned the area.

She shook her head. "You could never be an inconvenience. The last thing I'd want is for you to be suffering when I could have helped."

"It's an honour to have someone so gracious and selfless care about me." Danse said as she placed her free hand on his upper back, steadying his shoulder and sending warm tingles down his spine.

You can't think like this. She's the Elder's wife. Strictly out-of-bounds.

"Of course I care about you, Danse. You're one of the strongest and most understanding people I've ever met," she told him, plucking the needle and thread from the table and starting to sew the skin together. "You really know what's important - but just like Arthur, you work far too hard. I don't know what it will take to get you to understand; it's not a sin to take a short break every now and then." 

"The Institute doesn't rest." Danse replied. "The more we fall behind, the more we fail in our duty."

Again, Iris sighed deeply. "You really worry me, Danse. I'm afraid that one day, you'll work yourself to death. The world would be a dark place, indeed without you."

Those words alone made him forget the sting in his shoulder. He could feel her breath fanning over the back of his neck and it raised skittering goosebumps across his hot skin. That's when he realised he had it bad for her, but no matter what, he would never do anything that might bring about his dishonour.

However, Iris noticed him shiver under her hands and said: "I've nearly finished. It's too bad, really. I'd bet a little human contact is good for you."

When he didn't reply, waiting for her to finish so he could avoid doing something stupid, she snipped off the excess thread and placed the needle down, her hands coming to rest on his biceps. Slowly, she dragged her palms downward, feeling him tense and draw breath as they crossed to his abdomen. Before she could go lower, Danse gently took hold of her wrists (God forbid that he would ever hurt her).

"You need to stop, Iris..." he said, but his voice was weaker than he'd hoped. He knew she would have heard his want for her warmth.

"Do I?" she whispers, laying her head on his uninjured shoulder. With her lips so close to his ear, and the seductive tone that accompanied her words, he could feel the hardening bulge in his boxers. "You need this, Danse. Relax."

"You're married..."

"What Arthur doesn't know won't hurt him."

He was mortified that he needed no more persuasion before letting her slip her fingers below his waistband. The sigh that left his lips was loud and shaky, but apparently, she was right. He had needed it, because his eyes closed as soon as she grasped his cock and he leaned back into her embrace. "Fuck..." he groaned as she gave a few lazy strokes.

"There..." she purred, her tongue caressing a sweet spot just behind his ear. He'd never had a kink for softly spoken words, but God, was she turning him on. "Don't you feel better now?"

He couldn't answer, consumed by his own desire and pleasure as he bucked into her hand. "Maxson..." he breathed his question before he lost the chance.

"Sshhh..." she whispered. "This is about you."

She withdrew her hand, but Danse barely had time to whimper at the loss of contact before she knelt between his legs. Iris didn't break eye contact as she licked a long stripe up his shaft, her finely arched brows lifting in submission. His eyes fluttered closed once more, but she stopped and they snapped open, searching her face for any kind of clue. 

"Look at me, Danse," she practically growled, utterly surprising him with the sudden alteration in tone. "Look at me while I suck you off."

Arousal boiled in the pit of his stomach as bit his lip, gazing at her. She wrapped her soft lips around his head whilst her hand rubbed his shaft, looking straight into his eyes all the time. She swirled her tongue and sucked tentatively, reveling in the way he moaned and cursed.

"Has any woman ever taken all of you, Paladin?" she asked, the corner of her lip raised in a teasing grin. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. "I'm willing to try."

Danse ground his hips into the table to stop himself from bucking into her mouth. Her lips slid further down his cock, inch by inch as she hollowed her cheeks. He moaned breathlessly, shaking as she, true to her word, somehow managed to swallow all of him.

"Christ..." he muttered, dark brows furrowing.

She pulled back slowly, only to slide down again, faster this time, her hand coming up to cup his balls. He gasped, barely remembering to keep his eyes locked on hers. Her head bobbed and the delicious pressure in his gut made him grip the edges of the table almost hard enough to leave dents. Whilst finding it difficult to concentrate on both Iris and the pleasure, he realised it was probably making him last longer. It had been quite a while since he'd done this and he didn't have the stamina he'd anticipated, but the soft whisper of 'this is about you' had clearly been the truth.

Suddenly, he didn't feel entirely comfortable letting her do all the work. He could feel himself edging closer to release, but he wanted to repay her somehow and worship her stunning body.

"Iris, hold - Agh! - hold on a second." 

She paused, an iridiculous moment passing between them as she, still wrapped around his hard arousal, looked up at him curiously, although a touch of impatience made her lip curl. After he didn't continue, she withdrew with a wet 'pop' and said;

"Alright. You've got seconds before I can't resist making you come all over my breasts."

Danse shuddered with pure desire and bit back a groan. "I... I'd prefer it if we moved this to my quarters."

She stood and raised her eyebrow in light surprise. "Well, talk about going from nought to ten in no time at all."

The Paladin blushed, although the seductive smile she sent his way helped eased his nerves.

"There's far too large a risk of us being discovered," he offered. "And l'm eager to preserve our reputations.

He thought he saw something like sadnes shadow her eyes for a moment, but she recovered quickly and began to radiate sexuality once more. "If you really want to go somewhere a little more comfortable, I wouldn't object." She said with the soft smile that always soothed him. After he'd pulled his suit back up, his cock throbbing painfully, she slid her wedding ring into her pocket and held the door open for him.

 

During the short walk to his quarters, Danse couldn't help but wonder if she'd done this before. Iris was far too confident in her adultery, too practiced as she strode alongside him, exuding a nonchalance that made him jealous. How many others had she caught in her web? How many were fooled by a caring guise that turned downright painful as they had the same thoughts as he was having now. All of those bitter notions were replaced of course, when she trailed her fingertips down the curve of his ass for barely a second. He didn't think he could get any harder, but she'd just proved him wrong with only the slightest of touches.

The door to his most private of spaces was a welcome relief, but also his worst nightmare. The beautiful and sexy Goddess he fully intended to make love to was married to the most powerful man on board the Prydwen. He had the best and the worse of both worlds.

"You keep it quite nice in here," she observed as she stepped inside. "I like a tidy man."

Danse' wondered at the state of Maxson's bedroom as she'd noticed. "I like to know where everything is."

"I bet you do, big boy," she growled playfully without a trace of embarrassment. He flushed again and she began to pull down the zip on his suit, but a sudden urge overtook him and he gripped her shoulders, spinning her against the door and claiming a hot, needy kiss.

The moan Iris gave into his mouth almost made him dizzy. Her gentle hands slid up his chest, roamed the thick cords of muscle in his neck and cupped his stubbled cheeks. She angled her head to better accommodate his fierce lips and they kissed far more passionately than Danse could ever remember kissing anyone. She sighed contentedly as he pushed his thigh between her legs, apparently enjoying the unexpected friction and locking her arms submissively above her body. Her head fell back against the door and her back arched, pressing her breasts to his chest. Her lips parted in a silent moan as he lifted his leg, forcing her to ride his thigh and he took advantage by licking and suckling her bottom lip.

Danse watched as her eyes fluttered closed, grinding her still clothed sex against him. He sucked dark bruises on to her pale neck without thinking they were very much visible, but he hadn't had enough of her yet. He wanted more. He wanted as much as she could give to make up for all the wasted months... 

"D-Danse..." she whimpered as he rolled his hips. "This... This is supposed to be about helping you relax..."

"And if I want this?" he asked, big brown eyes dark with lust. "If I want to devour every inch of your perfect body and make you come undone beneath me? What then?"

The raven haired beauty looked quite surprised to know that he wanted to pleasure her. "Well... If that's really what you want, don't let me stop you," she said with a light giggle. "Unzip me, will you?" She asked, turning around and sweeping her hair to the side.

Danse wasted little time with meaningless teasing. He pulled the silver zip right the way down, exposing a black, lacy bra and creamy skin that he peppered with kisses. "You're beautiful," he whispered against her neck, placing gentle bites, soothed by his trailing tongue, down her spine.

She slipped the garment down her shoulders herself and Danse tugged it over her hips, moving back a little to let her step out of it. He took a moment to admire her underwear and long legs before untying her boot laces and pulling them off for her. He now noticed that she was a good foot smaller than he was, but whatever she lacked in height, she made up for in curves.

Iris threw him a wink and a cheeky smile, so he responded by backing her against the door again and kneeling at her feet. Momentarily nuzzling against the warmth of her thigh, he pulled off her underwear and hooked one of her legs over his good shoulder and she gasped. He had been pleased to find the thin cloth damp and he gently parted her folds, his mouth pressing against her clit.

She cried out and keened above him, her hands flying to find purchase in his thick, dark hair. "Oh Danse! Don't stop, please!"

At Iris' command, he swirled cirlces around her hard nub before suckling it between his teeth. Her hips arched towards him and she bit her lip to stifle her groan. She was very sensitive and it was then Danse supposed Arthur was often too busy to fit luxuries like this into his timetable. As he listened to her pant, he knew she was the one starved of affection, not him. He was willing to stay up all night making her come over and over again, if it pleased her.

A soft plea and a whimper left her lips as his tongue probed her entrance, lapping up her essence like a man starved. She threw back her head and gasped sweetly when he slipped the appendage in, squirming as his thumb found her clit. She swore breathlessly, quivering as he stroked her inner walls and pressed against a particularly good spot that had her tugging his hair. The corresponding grunt he gave sent vibrations through her sex and goosebumps over her back and she began to tremble.

"Danse..." she sighed blissfully. "Ungh... Just a little more... Please..."

Hearing those words, he fell to sucking her clit again and eased a finger past her folds. Once she started to rock her hips, he added another and pumped slowly. Iris released yet more desperate, increasingly high-pitched moans as he rubbed the pads of his fingers over a spongey spot inside her that made her shiver. Danse repeated this four, five, six times before she came around his hand. She had cried his name, head tilted towards the ceiling and body jarring until she gasped for breath.

He released her when she became oversensitive and she said; "God... You sure know what you're doing."

He gently lifts her chin and stares intently into her eyes. "I've wasted so many cold showers on you," he whispered. "Drunkenly dreamt of fucking you and making you feel like there's no one who can do to you what I can."

"Then show me," Iris replied, clutching the lapels of his flight suit. "Show me how badly you want me, Danse."

"Do you want this?" He asked. "There's no going back once it's done."

She cocked an eyebrow. "We've come this far, haven't we?" 

"We don't have to go any further." Danse assures her. "You're married. I understand if you've changed your mind."

Iris sighed heavily, bringing her hand to her forehead. "Look, Danse, there's something that you should probably be aware of..." she began, taking one of his large hands in hers. "Yes, I married Arthur. Yes, I care about him. Of course I do. I'd see my own blood spilt before his, but love him?" The young woman shook her head. "No, I don't love him. At least, not in the way his wife should. It was a marriage of convenience. We get along just well enough to sustain the correct appearance, but the lack of intimacy..." she paused, the confidence and the seduction gone, leaving behind a broken and lonely woman. "It's killing me, especially considering that I'm tied to him for the rest of my life." Iris blinked back tears, all too aware that in the process of having an affair was a bizarre time to admit such realisations. "Arthur's a good man, a passionate man whose strength knows no bounds, but I can't live my life like this. It'll be the death of me, one way or another."

Danse, who had been attentive throughout, lifted his hand to her cheek. "If only he'd found someone else. I could have had you all to myself... Selfish, I know, but I've been forcing myself to remain professional for so long... But before we do this, I have to know..." Iris waited patiently for him to continue. "How many others? How many times have you done this since being married?" 

Her response was to fall against his chest and allow him to embrace her. "None, honestly. I know you'd love me right... That's why I need this, Danse." She lifted her head and her eyes bored into his. "I need you to love me, even if it's just this once. I'm going insane sleeping alone every night."

"I don't much like coming between the two of you..." 

"There's hardly anything to come between," she muttered. "Only a word."

Danse nodded soberly. "Alright, if it's what you want."

A slow, deep kiss was his answer, during which he removed her bra and she finally got him out of that skin-tight suit. Her eyes widened as she took in his his tall and muscular frame, the dark trail of hair leading down his chest and into his boxers like an invitation.

She could have walked to the bed, but instead, Danse scooped her up and carried her there, imagining it would be this way if he had been so lucky as Maxson. He imagined sharing a delicious dinner with Iris, in no other company than each other, and the evening ending in hot, Bourbon kisses as they tangled their bodies beneath the sheets.

Danse's tenderness surprised her once again as he laid her out on his bed and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "You know, for such a big guy, you really can be very gentle. Make sure you don't reopen your stitches," she cautioned.

She shivered delightfully as he softly nipped her earlobe and whispered; "I rather enjoyed having your hands all over me."

She giggled quietly. "So you did need a little TLC. Just because you love what you do, that doesn't mean you have to isolate yourself from intimate contact."

Danse sighed. "I know... I just... I never imagined that you..."

He stopped short as she lifted her leg to his groin, at last giving him a little friction against his achingly hard cock.

"Does that answer your question?"

He nodded, beads of sweat already building on his upper lip. His removed his boxers and sighed wistfully when his member sprang free. He dropped the garment carelessly to the carpeted floor and let her guide his throbbing head into her slick entrance, watching her mouth fall open.

Those plush lips and soulful eyes were going to be seared into the deepest corners of his heart and mind. The Elder may have her, but he claimed this sweet memory all for himself. He'd hoard it, like he'd stow away the little sounds she was making beneath him as he slid deeper, and the feel of her twitching as she adjusted to his impressive length and girth.

"Ah! Fuck..." she breathed as he inserted himself to the hilt. "Just... Just hold on a sec, big guy. Give me a moment."

Danse stilled and, to help her relax, peppered her chest with leisurely, open-mouthed kisses. He made a trail down one of her breasts, sucking at the sensitive flesh before his tongue flicked at her pert nipple.

Iris moaned and he felt her relax, so Danse rolled his sturdy hips against hers, creating a bitter-sweet rhythm of slow, but deep thrusts. Her eyelids fluttered closed as the coil in the pool of her stomach began to wind itself tighter again, the familiar heat of orgasm building. One of her hands tangled itself through his hair, the other came to rest on his back, fingers splayed as her nails bit into his skin.

"Faster, Danse," she begged, breathing hard against his neck. "Please..."

He couldn't deny her anything, especially now when they were both at their most vulnerable and passionate. The careful thrusts became rapid surges, although he wasn't rough enough to hurt her. Pleasure coursed through every nerve in his body and her moans only spurred Danse on. He wasn't going to last much longer at this rate, but when Iris began to cry out every time he hit a particular spot inside her, it was apparent she couldn't take much more, either.

"Fuck! Fuck! I'm so close, Danse!" She told him, clawing at his back and lifting her hips to meet his thrusts. He shuddered and moaned her name as her walls squeezed him, preparing for her climax.

With sweat beading on his brow, Danse reached between them to rub her clit in tight circles and with the added pressure, she came undone. Arching beneath him, her lips parting in a silent scream, Iris experienced what had to be the most powerful and pleasurable orgasm she'd ever had. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world besides the two of them. There were no Deathclaws to tear people apart, no raiders to terrorise the locals and no wedding ring in her discarded clothes. Danse was the only thing that mattered.

The Paladin's release soon followed and his movements became erratic as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. With a delicious drawn-out groan, he collapsed on top of her, their chests heaving, utterly sated. Soon enough, thoughts of any repercussions came to mind. He dreaded reporting to Elder Maxson in the morning...

"I can't believe what we just did..." he muttered.

There was a lengthy pause as their breathing slowed before Iris said; "I'm sorry. This was all very selfish of me. I thought I was helping you, but I was only really searching for a cure for heartbreak... I'm so sorry, Danse..."

She tried to wriggle from beneath him, but he'd nearly become a dead-weight on top of her, body rising and falling with deep, even breaths.

"Stay..." he murmured sleepily. She was warm and comforting, chasing the threat of nightmares away.

Iris sighed, but chuckled shortly afterwards, the vibrations traveling down Danse's chest. "It looks like you were in need of a little love after all."

He barely heard her, the clutches of deep sleep already beginning to grip him. It dulled his guilt, although not the forbidden passion that stirred within his chest. He clumsily muttered a groggy 'I love you' into her breasts and remained conscious for just long enough to hear her whisper;

"I love you, too."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris makes a decision upon finding out Danse's true identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, part 2! I might do a short epilogue, but other than that, this work is finished. Hope you enjoy! Sorry for any typos.

She could only stare at her husband, the man for whom before now, she held the greatest respect and had thought he was as least fair and honourable, if a little short tempered. A foul tasting concoction of shock, horror and hate churned in her gut and made her want to gag, not because of what her lover was, but because of the man her husband had become.

"Arthur..." Iris began quietly, still attempting to process the order he had just given her. "You... You can't be serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" He snapped and she flinched at his tone. Had this been any other conversation under any other circumstance, she might have educated him in basic conversational etiquette, but for the first time, she thought him truly ruthless, a quality that rattled her to the core. "It's been in our midst for years, gained access to files and data that could prove devastating to the Brotherhood. It shall meet the same fate as the other Institute abominations."

Iris felt fire burning in her chest, defiance building in her soul as he stripped his most loyal soldier of his humanity in seconds. "Does Danse's dedication mean nothing to you, Arthur?" She asked through teeth that were gritted with sudden anger. "After everything he's done for you - for the Brotherhood - and you'd just hunt him down and slaughter him like an animal?"

Arthur stood, pressing his palms to the desk as his nostrils flared and his lips curled in rage. However, when he spoke, his voice was a barely audible, baritone snarl. "No. You will."

She was quicker to respond this time, her heart having leapt to her throat in its determination to keep Danse alive. "I'm not going to have his blood on my hands! He deserves better!"

"You'll do as I tell you, Iris!" He all but roared, stepping the other side of his desk to where she stood. They were so close that they breathed the same air, his icy blue eyes full of nothing but cold hatred. He had miscalculated the effects of his overbearing physical presence on her, however.

"How dare you take that tone with me, Arthur Maxson!" She yelled, the volume of her voice nearly matching his. "I am your wife, not your subordinate!"

"Oh really?" He asks, spite seeping through his words as he gripped her chin harshly, forcing her to look at him. "Perhaps you should have thought about that before letting the synth mark your neck!"

He released her none too gently, turning and striding to the window and gazing at the sea. Iris stared for a long moment, watching his sides swell with each measured, angry breath. She thought it ironic that now, he should choose to feel jealous. In the months she'd spent mostly alone in his bed, she'd never thought he cared what she did, so long as it didn't sully his reputation. She had either been wrong, or he was worried someone else would suspect foul play - in which case, it would have been about his reputation, anyway. Iris knew the most likely answer. She also knew it was time to decide where her loyalties lie.

"Arthur," she began, breathing deeply and projecting her usually soft voice as much as she could. She wanted there to be no misunderstanding. "If I leave the Prydwen now, I'm not coming back."

The Elder said nothing, leaving a thick, lingering silence that knawed at every part of Iris. To understand the full extent of just how much for convenience their marriage was did not come as a surprise, but her heart sank all the same. She had loved Arthur once. She wouldn't have agreed to marry him, otherwise, but it meant little to her now. As Brontë had made Catherine say to Nelly; 'What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here?' Iris knew there was none.

The only sound to break the still air before the latch on the door was the soft, but unmistakable 'chink' as she placed her ring on his desk, severing the bond she thought would have made her happy.

 

The figure that emerged from the brick dust in battered power armour was one he hardly recognised at first. Battered thanks to his defenses, he supposed, it was lucky the turrets had missed the chinks in the metal. When she spoke, his entire body wracked with a pain that shook his bones, a pain he didn't even know if he could really feel.

"God dammit, you crazy bastard," Iris said irritably, yanking the T-60 helmet from her head. "You almost killed me."

Danse had never seen her in power armour before. They had never been assigned to the same patrols and Maxson had been keeping a tight reign on her since they married. It didn't really suit her at all. She was lithe and slim, built for sniping and close-quarter stealth attacks. The bulky metal frame looked too large for her body. He was glad she'd worn it, though; she'd probably have been dead if she hadn't.

"Iris..." he muttered. "Why? Why would Arthur send you?"

"Why do you think, Danse?" She said, the armour creaking as she rested her weight on one leg, a pose of hers he'd always found strangely erotic. "He found out what happened that night... When you came back with that gash on your shoulder. It's supposed to be a punishment." She sighed deeply, before her eyes caught his big brown ones that reminded her of a puppy. "He underestimated me. Or rather, he doesn't know that I never really had his ideals at heart."

Danse swallowed and drew in breath. "You have to do it, Iris. I know you don't want to. I know this is difficult for you..." He had to force himself to finish. "But I must be the example, not the exception." He puffed out his chest, perhaps an attempt at regaining the dignity he'd lost and accepting his fate.

"If you think I'm going to kill you, you're as stupid as Haylen was for asking me," Iris replied. He could see her shaking, although whether it was fear or anger, he couldn't tell.

"You don't have a choice," Danse implored, appealing to the more logical and tactical soldier in her. "If Maxson gave you the order..."

"I left, Danse," Iris said. He felt the breath being knocked from his lungs upon hearing it. "I made it clear; if he sent me to do this, he'd never see me again. He made his choice and so have I."

"You shouldn't have," the disgraced Paladin told her. "You could have been something great. You showed so much promise."

Iris stepped forward until she was almost treading on his boots. "There's nothing there for me, Danse," she said carefully, slowly, as if she thought he couldn't hear her. "I don't care about ranks and titles. They're just words that, out there in the Commonwealth, don't mean anything." Danse opened his mouth to interject, her words stirring an odd sense of defensiveness in him. She carried on before he could speak, the gleam in her eyes as intense as her purpose. "You're all I have, Danse. I've already lost my family. Don't make me lose you, too."

Danse suddenly felt as though his entire world had been blown a little wider. A rather strange calmness washed over him, as though he was simply watching the stars glitter against an inky sky. Iris was just as complex as the many mysteries of the universe, her passion and pain just as infinite. It was then he realised how selfish he'd been. He couldn't add to her grief. Like hell he was going to be the reason for her falling into despair and chems.

"I'm sorry, Iris," he said. "I didn't think that I meant that much to you. I didn't realise that I'd be hurting you, too."

Iris sighed again, but there was an expression on her face he couldn't quite read, somewhere between relief and guilt. "Danse, you mean more to me than anyone else ever has," she began. "But I don't want to push this. I know this has been more than difficult for you and..." she paused, her brows knitting together as she tried to formulate the remainder of her sentence. "I want you to be comfortable in your own body before I start forcing mine on top of you."

A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she blinked at him and gave a shy half-smile. It'd take more than a miracle for Danse to be able to resist her looking like that. Why? The answer was simple; he was gazing at the real Iris, the strong and affectionate woman who hadn't let the horror of the Commonwealth take her humanity away.

"I'll wait for as long as you need me to," Iris added softly, but he had other ideas.

"I want to be close to you," he said, needing any sort of contact with her warm skin to remind him that he was not alone and that he could feel, whether what he felt was programed or not.

The beautiful young woman gave a giggle and said; "That might be a little difficult at present. Hold on. Let me see if I can remember how to do this..." He watched as her nose crinkled in thought and she muttered to herself. "Okay. Twist arms forward... Wrists forward... Butt back... There."

At long last, she stepped out of the armour and Danse's own libido surprised him. He was a little ashamed to admit that after losing his honour, his place in the Brotherhood and his livelihood, the sight of Iris in her skin-tight black jumpsuit made his cock twitch painfully.

There was no immediate rush to close the distance between them. The shy Iris had returned with her sweet blush and careful smile, hands folded over her abdomen. Danse took a moment to appreciate her gorgeous pre-war body, her hourglass figure easily trumping the women on the covers of 'Grognak the Barbarian'. The Nuka-Cola girl had nothing on Iris and he could imagine squeezing her soft and pliant flesh in his large hands.

"I don't know whether I can feel love or not..." he began. "But I know that being with you has made me realise that I never want to be alone, again."

It was then that she moved towards him, stopping when there was barely an inch between them, and simply lay her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Danse returned the embrace, feeling his blood pump a little faster as he stroked her hair. She smelled wonderful, like freshly picked Mutfruit and the metallic tang of the power armour. She was warm, cosy and her selflessness made him feel safe when he was at his most vulnerable.

After a little while, she pulled back just enough to place her hands against his cheeks. He closed his eyes and gave a quiet hum of approval, leaning into her touch as she said;

"Danse, no matter what anyone else tells you, you're not just a machine or an abomination." His eyes snapped open, but he found himself soothed upon meeting her green ones that made him think of fresh grass and summer leaves. "You're a strong leader, a good man and you have a beautiful personality," she continued. "I wouldn't change a thing about you because you're..." She took a breath to steady her nerves and stop the Bloodbugs jittering in her stomach. "You're who I really fell in love with."

Danse needed no more persuasion to press his lips to hers. He had a feeling, from the sigh of bliss she released into the kiss, that although she hadn't asked for it, it was very much needed. Perhaps a little braver this time, Danse slid his tongue over her lips and she opened her pretty mouth to allow him access. His hands fell to her hips to pull their bodies as close as he possibly could, but the action caused his tightening groin to press against her stomach.

A lusty groan rumbled from his chest and Iris chuckled. "It's comforting to know that I'm not the only one who's horny as hell."

She planted a chaste kiss at the corner of his mouth, then left a trail down his jaw and neck to his throbbing pulse. Gyrating her hips in a slow and continuous cycle, Iris licked and nibbled the tender skin of his neck, drawn taut as he lifted his head.

"Iris..." Danse moaned low in his throat. God, what that baritone voice did to her, especially when it was full of lust and longing, she'd never be able to fight. "Please..." he whispered. "I... I need more. I need you."

The young woman nuzzled his neck and her delicate hand came to rest on the zip of his uniform. "I'd be more than happy to oblige, but where do you suggest we go? I'm assuming you haven't had the chance to get a bed in here."

Danse inhaled as he tried to recall the details he'd noticed since first arriving at the bunker. "There's a mattress in the other room," he offered.

"Amongst the protectron and turret remains?" Iris smiled playfully. "Sounds perfect, but let's get this off first."

She removed his uniform's hood and combed through his dark hair, smoothing out stray strands and stroking it down at the back of his neck. This maternal behaviour was what, on occasions when he'd felt particularly lonely, Danse lived for. He supposed he had a bit of a kink for it. It certainly made his heart beat a little faster.

"There," she said, gazing into his warm, brown eyes. "Perfect. Now, come on," she took his hand. "Let's find that mattress you were talking about and have a little fun."

Danse was momentarily dazed by her smile and she had to drag him through the hole in the plaster wall, slowing down enough so that he wouldn't trip over his own feet. When she located the old mattress, Danse perhaps felt a little guilty. She was used to sleeping in Maxson's bed. This pitiful rectangle of mouldy brown cloth and broken springs must have been a far cry from the comfort of the best bed on the Prydwen.

"Sweetheart, I couldn't care less if it was a sheet on the floor," she told him soothingly. "Just so long as I can fuck you without my knees getting sore."

He blushed like Tato and she laughed, curling her slender fingers around the zip on his suit and dragging it down. Her free hand followed the trail of revealed skin down his chest to the top of his boxers and he shivered at the tender touch. She peeled the tight material away from his shoulders and down to his waist before bending to unlace his boots.

"Listen, big guy..." she began as she struggled with the knot on his left boot. "I hope you know I consider you to be mine, now. I'll be damned if I let anyone else have you."

Danse chuckled as she stood and toed out of his boots. "Wouldn't dream of belonging to anyone else."

By the gleeful smile she sent his way, he assumed she was satisfied with that answer and proceeded to remove the rest of his suit. Iris took the pins out of her hair and Danse couldn't tear his gaze from her as it cascaded down her back, like waves of pre-war pitch.

"I hate these things..." she said to break the air a little as she unzipped her own suit. "They're so restrictive..."

Watching the suit part to reveal the creamy skin of her rounded breasts was more sensual than foreplay. "You're not wearing..." he began as she pulled her arms out.

"I can't even get this thing on if I'm wearing a bra," she stated. "I've got my knickers on, though. The seam would drive me crazy, otherwise..."

Danse was too busy thinking about the suit rubbing against her bare clit to respond, but when she sat on the edge of the mattress to remove her boots, the former Paladin stopped her to return the favour she'd bestowed upon him. After that, Iris lifted her hips to allow him to slide the suit off her legs, deliberately taking longer than he needed to. His knuckles brushed against the soft meat of her thighs and calves, appreciating the heat that she gave off.

He had been about to lie between her legs but, ever the thoughtful and caring beauty, Iris slid up to the top of the mattress and beckoned him to her. He followed like a Bloatfly to a flame, crawling towards her and giving her a good view of the rippling muscles in his back, chest and shoulders. With her back against the wall, Danse slotted his body between her legs, touching his lips to hers in a soft, brief kiss before moving further down.

A groan left his lips as Iris buried a hand in his hair. She tugged lightly when his hot mouth descended on a sweet spot below her ear, but she also bucked against him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his own desires, but this woman, one of heaven's most missed angels, he was sure, had given him a reason to live, to love, even if he still hated himself.

"Danse..." Iris sighed blissfully as his lips trailed down over her collarbone, pausing to lick and suck at the hollow of her throat. "Please..."

He latched on to one of her nipples, teasing it to a pebbled peak with his skilled tongue and teeth. He did the same to the other before she seemed to change her mind about letting him go further down.

"Switch places with me," she said and he complied almost immediately.

Iris started by running her hands over the dusting of dark hair on his chest, making goosebumps prickle along his arms. Danse watched as she kissed, licked and nibbled all the way down to his navel, where she moved sideways to nip at the tight skin over his hips. He moaned and buried a hand in her hair, the tingling she created traveling to his groin. He lifted his hips when she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, allowing her to slip them off and his member sprang free.

Her small fingers closed around his hard length and leisurely moved back and forth, causing blissful sighs and little bucks of Danse's pelvis. She caught his heavy-lidded gaze and ran her hot tongue slowly over his tip, licking up the drops of precum that had collected there.

"I've thought about doing this since last time," Iris purred, stroking her thumb along the ridge of his member. "You taste good."

"Iris, please..." he groaned desperately.

She rubbed his shaft a little faster and lowered her head to lick his balls before she said; "We've got all the time in the world. I'm in no rush. In fact, I think I'd like to make you come all over me."

His breath hitched and she took him into her mouth, bobbing her head as Danse closed his eyes. Begging was helpless, that he knew. Iris never backed down that easily, but he wasn't about to complain. The most beautiful woman in the world had her lips wrapped around his cock; what more could he want?

The ache of release was building low in Danse's gut and his moans grew louder. His head rested against the wall as he cleared his mind and felt only pleasure. She uttered praises against the hot skin of his thighs as she paused to nip and lick them, but her assault was far from over. Returning her mouth to his member, she felt him tremble beneath her, moving up and down in a now rapid rhythm. He found something as simple as breathing difficult, bucking into Iris and releasing more desperate, pleading moans.

"Iris..." Danse panted, wanting to at least forewarn her before he came down her throat, but her hands replaced her mouth and she said;

"You going to come for me, big boy?"

The grin that slid across her lips, combined with the sparkle in her deep green eyes, was too much for him. The muscles in his abdomen and rear tightened and, for a few glorious seconds, he lost sight of the world around him. He forgot what he was, what he had been and groaned breathlessly, his seed coating Iris' breasts in thick ribbons.

For a little while, he lay back against the wall, catching his breath and thinking himself lucky that even if he could never shake the disgust that his own identity roused within him, Iris would still love him. A monster like him didn't diserve someone so beautiful, so tender and so human, yet here she was, now kneeling between his thighs, trailing her finger through the streams of white and licking it off.

"Hey, Danse."

"Yeah?"

"Want to watch me?"

His eyes became glued to her hand as she spread it through his seed and down her belly, parting her legs to rub the moisture over her clit. Iris leaned back on her elbow and bit her lip, her soft sigh making Danse's chest thrum with need. She tilted her head back upon circling the swollen nub, but he was reminded of the incident in the medical bay and decided to involve himself in her masturbation.

"Look at me," Danse said and she brought her gaze forward again, cheeks flushed and breasts heaving as she moaned quietly. "Say my name," he commanded. She obeyed immediately, sliding a finger down to her entrance, glistening with arousal, and eased it in.

Danse, too, gave a heady groan, watching her eyelids flutter as she tried to keep their eyes locked, lips parting as delicious gasps slipped between them. Iris added a second finger and pumped leisurely, drawing out almost fully before inserting the digits to the knuckle. Obscene sounds echoed through the room and Danse's cock was already semi-hard, again, twitching against his thigh as Iris curled her fingers and shivered.

Soon, it became too much. He was no longer satisfied with the lack of contact, no matter what the effect of this erotic show on his clouded mind. Danse reached forward and grasped her wrist, pulling it to his mouth and thoroughly licking her clean. She gazed at him the entire time, panting and using her free hand to cup his cheek. After he'd finished, he slowly lowered her down onto the mattress beneath him, taking a moment to rest his forehead against hers.

"I don't deserve you," he muttered. "I'm nothing more than a machine. You should be with someone loving, warm, human."

Iris sighed and brought her hands to his cheeks, feeling the stubble scratch against her palms. "You're all of those things and more. I love you, Danse. Can't you see that?" she asked, her eyes big and round, glassy with forming tears. "You're more of a man than Arthur will ever be." He watched as she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, thumbs stroking nervously over his cheekbones. "I... I realise it might not mean much to you. I know it looks like I'm throwing my heart around, sleeping with another man when I only broke off my marriage a few hours ago..." He wanted nothing more than to hold her just then, be a float that she could always cling to, to show her that he would try to understand how she felt if it killed him.

"It's probably ridiculous of me to ask if you're still okay with this..." Danse said, softly rubbing his hands along her waist.

Iris nodded. "I am. I can't imagine what you must think of me..."

He stopped her with a firm kiss, gently nudging her legs apart, excitement and arousal rising like flames in his belly. "I think you're beautiful," he began, pressing the head of his cock against her entrance. "I think you're intelligent and possess far more courage than many in your position would."

Danse slid into her tight heat slowly, keen to draw this out at much as possible. He wanted to savour every burning, blissful sensation and Iris certainly provided plenty of those. Her eyelids fluttered closed and her mouth parted in sweet ecstasy. The former Paladin took her plump bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled gently, feeling her airy moans on his mouth like tiny kisses of their own. When he hilted at last, he buried his face in her neck, the warm skin soothing any tension within Danse. He could've stayed like that forever, but the woman beneath him was growing restless.

"Mmm... Danse, please..." Iris whined, attempting to buck her hips, but she was restricted by the weight of his body, pressed against hers and keeping her pinned to the mattress.

"I want to take it slow this time," he muttered against her pulse and she shivered with desire.

Dragging his pelvis back at an agonising pace, Danse set the rhythm by moving forward just as leisurely. However, the movement was so deep that he found that same sensitive spot he had last time on the first thrust. Her body reeled and she whimpered, one of the most arousing sounds he'd ever heard, one small hand winding through his thick, dark hair, the other clawing at his shoulders. The bite of her nails sent electricity all the way along his spine and he gave a gasping groan, pulling back and rocking forward once more.

Iris could hardly comprehend her own existence due to the cacophony of feelings that buzzed and whipped through the entirety of her being. The pleasure was too much, but simultaneously not enough, although after the twelfth clash of their hips, she couldn't fathom where Danse ended and where she began. He moaned into her flesh with each thrust, as did Iris, Danse barking out a cry of pleasure when she squeezed down on him. She needed more. She needed some kind of relief from this deeply intense bliss.

"Danse..." she shuddered. "Danse, please... I can't come like this. Please..."

"You can," he whispered, sucking her earlobe. "Come for me, sweetheart. I've got you. I know you can."

After a few more bucks and the addition of his tentative tongue to her nipple, her climax took her by surprise. A desperate, keening cry forced itself through her lungs and up her throat as she arched beneath him. For mere seconds, Iris felt like she was floating on a calm and warm sea, no cares, no struggles, just Danse and pure, pleasurable weightlessness.

Only when her breathing began to level did he speed up, lowering a large hand to thumb her throbbing clit. Iris curled her slim legs tightly around his waist and tugged his hair, feeling the beginnings of another orgasm tailing the smoldering embers of the first. She moaned shamelessly, screwing her eyes shut and letting Danse fuck her at his own pace. She quivered as she drew closer to her peak again and, judging by Danse's ragged breathing, he couldn't have been far off, either.

When Iris' moans became increasingly high pitched and she repeated his name like a mantra, he recognised that to be the painful pre-climax stage, when her face twisted with need and to stop would have been thoroughly cruel. He doubled his efforts, both on her clit and within her slick walls and soon, she contracted around him, throwing back her head and screaming his name. The pulsations on his cock was his undoing and as Iris sobbed into his shoulder, his mouth fell open and he expelled a loud, long groan into the heavy air. His seed streamed into her, hot, yet oddly soothing and Danse collapsed onto her chest with an exhausted sigh.

It was only once he felt himself drifting off to sleep that he decided it would be best to move so as not to crush her. Plucking his boxers from the cold stone floor, he used them to clean Iris up, then himself before tossing them in the vague direction of his pack that he'd stuffed with a few necessary supplies. His goddess invited him to lie on his side, his head tucked into the warm safety of her breasts. Danse realised how much he liked being there, his eyelids drooping as she stroked his hair softly. It was with a comic smile he thought he'd found his place in the world.

"I love you, Danse," Iris muttered gently, planting a kiss on top of his head.

"I love you, too."


	3. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hayle visits Danse at the Bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short epilogue I decided to write for this story detailing the beginning of Danse and Iris' lives together.

Haylen smiled across the table at Danse and, although the bunker was cold, sparsely furnished and grey, he felt happier than he had done for quite a while. Iris was definitely no carpenter, but she was sufficiently skilled with a hammer to ensure they had a bed, table and a few rickety chairs. She was out looking for cloth at present to upholster the chairs, and she'd formulated a somewhat ambitious plan to build a sofa, too. Danse wasn't sure how that would turn out, but he was glad of the help in making the place more livable, especially as she'd decided to live with him.

"I'm glad you're both alright," Haylen said. "I was sure Maxson would send someone after you."

"He still might," Danse grimaced. "I don't think Iris will go down without a fight."

"Are you thinking of staying here?"

Danse chuckled. "Iris is enjoying the freedom of a little more independence - and the... creative opportunities. She's trying to find something to brighten up the walls, whatever that will be..."

Haylen raised an eyebrow. "Has she ever shown you any of her artwork?" Danse shook his head. "It's, uh, abstract," the Scribe offered. "You'll know what I mean when she comes back with picture frames and a sketch pad, rather than the paintings of kittens or boats."

There was a pause as Danse's lips turned up in that signature half-smile of his, thinking about Iris, her warm smile, her soft, dark hair, her rounded hips and breasts. If he lost her, he'd be as good as dead. He didn't have anything else to live for.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Haylen broached the subject carefully. When Danse waited for her to continue, she said; "Are you two together?"

He was a little surprised; she wasn't usually that direct. The Paladin in him tensed and for a moment, he slipped back into his Brotherhood mindframe, telling himself that such fraternisation was a breech of decorum. That was when the events of the past few days hit him like a punch to the gut. Iris had already told him that she would drag him through this of she had to. She apologised that she'd never be able to understand how he felt, but she wanted to try. She loved him so much that she wanted to become a part of him, lying next to him for hours and stroking her fingers over his skin, mapping every inch of his face to make up for her apparent lack of emotional understanding.

As far as Danse was concerned, she knew what it felt like to lose everything, but she'd been able to pick herself up, dust herself off and rebuild her life. Not without her fair share of difficulty and turmoil, but she'd done it all the same. He admired her tenacity, loved her devotion and held fast to her cause. Iris kept him from taking the easy way out. He couldn't leave her behind. It would break her. He cared too deeply about her to hurt her.

Eventually, Danse sighed, unaware that Haylen had watched the alterations in his expression as he'd been thinking. "Yes, I suppose," he answered. "I don't know if we've really put a term to it yet..."

"I don't need to ask if she makes you happy, do I?" she laughed.

Danse shook his head with a smile. "I don't know what deity gave her the patience to persist with me," he said, "but she does."

"She loves you, Danse," Haylen replied simply. "You two are going to be just fine, I guarantee it."

He inhaled deeply before letting the breath out slowly, thoughtfully. "I know. Besides, she's promised me Brahmin steak, tonight. If that's not something to be pleased about, I don't know what is."

The Scribe's eyes widened and she threw him a worried glance. "You're letting Iris cook for you?"

"Yes," Danse replied, his full lips turning down in mild worry. "Why? Has she cooked for you?"

"Rhys and I were off duty for days," Haylen explained. "She could've improved since then, of course. There's always the chance that it could've been because we had freshly killed Mole Rat on a stick. I don't know..."

"You ate Mole Rat on a stick?"

Haylen shrugged. "It didn't look too bad. Iris made a Mutfruit and carrot dressing to go with it and we didn't think Mole Rat could get any worse... Unless it's not cooked all the way through, as we found out."

The former Paladin intook breath and swallowed. Haylen just laughed and assured him Iris was sure to do a delicious Brahmin steak. He'd have to make sure he asked for it well-done.


End file.
